Waiting for a Friend
by squeakyclean
Summary: After tragedy strikes Daryl finds refuge alone in a bar, but he's not alone. Spoilers in first chapter. Rated T for now, but will probably have M chapters that will be listed as such. DarylxOC
1. Chapter 1

Daryl took one last look at the Grady memorial hospital, and spit on the ground in front of him before turning and walking back to the group. He looked down at Beth in his arms; she looked like she could be sleeping. He bit back tears and carried her to the firetruck. Silence echoed around him as he laid her down in the back, and covered her with a blanket. After she was covered, he turned and walked away from her. From Carol, from Rick. He walked away from his family.

"Daryl...?" Rick called after him.

"Just leave me alone man." Daryl yelled back. Everyone stood in awe as the once so strong Daryl crumbled before their eyes. Once he got to the intersection, he turned without looking back.

He continued on for what could have been hours, but only seemed like seconds to Daryl. His head was filled with memories of Beth. How scared and timid she was when he first met her, and how strong she became at the prison. His eyes filled with angry tears as he fought himself, saying there was nothing he could do. He swiped at the tears cascading down his cheeks, and looked around. It was nearly dark, and he was stranded in Atlanta. The group had probably moved on, but he couldn't go back to them just yet. He glanced over his shoulder, and noticed a building that wasn't completely destroyed. He grabbed some of the pieces of laying in the street, and headed inside. As he shut the door, and peered around, he couldn't believe his luck. A bar. He had walked right into a bar. He smiled to himself a little at the Irish flag behind the counter, and immediately got angry again. He began boarding up the door so nothing could surprise him while he drank and slept.

There was a scraping from behind the bar; Daryl grabbed a gin bottle off a nearby table and broke it at the neck. As he inched closer to the counter, he heard the unmistakable growling of a walker, except this one wasn't doing very much walking. Daryl sighed and jammed the broken bottle neck into the walker's cranium. There was a heavy shelf on top of the walker's legs, stopping him from going anywhere. As the walker's head fell to the floor, Daryl looked around behind the bar.

"What the fuck is this shit?" he muttered to himself. "Melon liqueur, Blueberry Vodka...this is bullshit."

And then he found it; the dustiest, most expensive looking bottle of whiskey in the joint. He dusted it off with his thumb, and pulled it out. The label had worn off, but it was still sealed.

"Good enough." he let out an exasperated sigh.

Before he left, he grabbed a disgusting looking bottle of vodka, and a lighter sitting underneath the cash register. He plopped down in front of the fireplace, threw some wood into it, doused the wood in the vodka, and threw the lighter in. Within minutes he had a nice roaring fire. After a few minutes of struggling with shaking hands, he managed to open the bottle. He took a big satisfying swig of the whiskey, and rubbed his forehead. Before too long, but not before the bottle was already almost empty, Daryl started to finally feel relaxed. He leaned up against the wall, and closed his eyes. It had been less than five minutes since he closed his eyes when there was a scraping upstairs. Daryl jolted awake, and grabbed his knife. He carefully and silently moved towards the door going to the apartments upstairs.

Carefully, trying not to put too much weight on any given stair, he made his way to the platform. When he reached it he saw two doors; one of them was covered in dust, and the other looked like it had been used recently. He reached his hand out, turned the knob, and pushed it open.

"Beth?!" he exclaimed.

There was a girl standing in the middle of the room with a chair in her hands. She had shoulder length blonde hair that looked like it had been cut with a knife, and gray eyes that reflected the light of the trashcan fire like mirrors. All of a sudden a dog came bounding out from behind her, and started viciously attacking Daryl with kisses.

"Apollo, come." the girl said, still holding the chair. "Who are you and what do you want?" she asked fervently.

"Daryl, just looking for a place to crash for the night. I'm going back to my group in the mornin." Daryl said, trying to ignore the dog pawing at his leg. "What about you? You all alone?"

"I might be. The name is Matilda, but you can call me Tilly." she lowered the chair, however her arms were positioned to attack if need be.

"Got any food, Tilly?" Daryl finally gave in and patted the dog on the head.

"You like canned chili?" she retorted, glancing over at the closet. Daryl peeked into the room, and saw 50 cans or so of chili stacked neatly in the closet. "The owner of this place loved beans apparently." Apollo gave Daryl one final lick, and returned to his master. "If I live through whatever the fuck this is, I swear I will never eat another bean in my life." she patted him on the head.

"Come on downstairs. I have an actual fire, and there's booze. We can feast on chili." Daryl motioned back towards the stairs. Tilly smiled to herself.

"By the looks of it, you don't need any more booze, but I'll take the rest of that Dalmore." she pointed at the half empty bottle in his hand.

"Sounds good to me. This shit's disgusting. I think I'll stick to my moonshine." he wandered off back down the stairs.

Tilly grabbed a couple cans of chili from the closet, and followed him down; Apollo in tow.


	2. Chapter 2

Tilly wiped sleep from her eyes as sun flooded through the cracks in the boarded up windows. She looked around; Daryl lay with his back to her, Apollo at his feet. She shook, and stood up. She ran back upstairs and grabbed her backpack, more importantly her machete and water bottle. Back down the stairs she went, being careful not to wake the sleeping man on the floor.

"Apollo, come." she hissed. The dog humphed in his sleep, and wagged his tail unenthusiastically. She rolled her eyes, and began taking the boards off the door. Finally she managed to make it out of the building and onto the street. She turned right, towards the suburbs. In the pack slung over her shoulders there were some crackers, a bottle of water, and various tools. She had been trying to repair her old neighbor's pickup for months, and figured she'd have another go at it today. She was halfway down the road when a voice called out to her.

"Leave your dog with me again, and I'll cook 'im!" she smiled slightly and turned, squinting as the sun was now in her eyes.

"He'd probably taste better than chili." she called back at Daryl sarcastically . Apollo looked up at the man, and wagged his tail, panting a happy smile. Daryl walked down the street towards her; she noticed he had no pack with him.

"Whereabouts ya headed anyways? Not plannin' to go haring off towards the walkers are ya?" he said as he approached her. He noticed a wrench sticking out of her pack. "Ya wouldn't happen ta be fixin' something would ya?" Tilly nodded.

"My neighbor's old pickup. It malfunctioned right before all this started. I've been trying to fix it to get out of here, but I'm kind of clueless." she blushed.

"I'll make you a deal; I'll fix her for ya if I can borrow it for a bit. I'll see if you can join my group... if you want to that is." a smile caught her eyes.

"Sure, it's gotta be better than living above a bar eating chili every day."

"Well alright then. Lead the way." Tilly nodded and they set off down the street once more.

* * *

><p>"I hate to ask it, but how many walkers you killed?" Daryl asked from under the hood of the car; Tilly stood watch a few feet from him, keeping an eye on the road.<p>

"I lost count about three months in. I didn't have any family, and Apollo here was my only companion. I killed to stay alive, y'know?"

"Yeah, I know." Daryl replied quietly. He shut the hood and backed up. "That should be it, let's try."

"You need a key? We might be able to find-"

"Nah, that's fine." Daryl said as he poked his head under the dash and hotwired the car.

"I'm impressed." Tilly smirked and headed to the passenger door. "Can hold his scotch and hotwire a car. I believe you might be prince charming Mr. Daryl."

"Just used to it I guess." Daryl whistled at Apollo. The dog came bounding over and into the front seat, placing himself between Tilly and Daryl. "Anything you want before we ship out? We ain't comin' back."

"No. Nothing." Tilly responded, a tinge of sadness in her voice and she looked around the destroyed neighborhood.

"Well alright then." Daryl shut his door and off they went.

* * *

><p>"Who's Beth?" Tilly asked after a long silence. They had been driving for a while, and not said a word.<p>

"A girl that I know…knew. She died." there was hurt in his voice.

"I'm sorry. Did she die recently?"

"Yesterday." Daryl spit out the window.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean…" Tilly trailed off.

"Nah it's fine man. She was annoying." she stared at him and shook her head.

"She doesn't sound like she was annoying. It's sounds like you loved her." Tilly turned her eyes back to the road. Daryl brought the truck to a slow stop.

"Yeah, and so what if I did love her, hm?! Maybe I did. Maybe I fuckin' loved her. That's none of your damn business." he punched the steering wheel, and looked out the window, biting his lip. "I was supposed to protect her, and I couldn't. It's my fault she even… She shouldn't even have been in that hospital." Apollo whined, and licked Daryl's arm.

"How did she die?" Tilly asked softly "You don't have to tell me if you don't want too."

"She got shot. It was clean, she didn't feel a thing." he started to drive again. They drove in silence for a while before either of them spoke again.

"Where do you think we'll find your group?" Tilly asked as they turned a corner.

"Right there." Daryl pointed to the firetruck stopped ahead. Rick and Glenn looked like they were arguing while the rest of the company stood watch. Daryl slowed the pickup and finally stopped. He hopped out and went to Rick while Tilly stayed in the car.

"Hey man. How are you doin'?" Rick asked, completely forgetting his fight with Glenn.

"I'm alright. Hey, I met someone. She seems alright, is it ok if she joins the group?" Rick looked down.

"Let me talk to her." Rick walked towards the pickup. Tilly swung open the door and climbed out carefully. "Daryl tells me you want to join us."

"If I could. It's just been me an' Apollo here basically since this thing started."

"I'm sorry to hear that. I got a couple questions for ya." Tilly nodded.

"I'm Matilda by the way, but you can call me Tilly if it's easier."

"Alright then Tilly; How many walkers have you killed?"

"Enough to stay alive. I lost track after 25."

"Fair enough." Rick looked back at Daryl who was kneeling next to Carol who sat on the edge of the firetruck. "How many people have you killed?" Tilly took a deep breath, and looked around nervously.

"Five."

"Why?"

"I couldn't bear to see them suffer." Tilly broke down "They were too weak to make it in this world. So I waited till they were all asleep and stabbed 'em in the brain. I couldn't wait for them to turn." Tears fell hard and fast from her gray eyes. Rick shook his head solemnly.

"I'm sorry." he said, looking at the ground as he started walking away.

"Wait, I can help!" Rick stopped "I'm a nurse. And Apollo here can hunt. Please. Don't leave me alone again." she fought back tears.

"Rick, just give her a chance. We can't just leave her." Carol called out in a meek voice.

"Fine, you can join us. But expect to earn your keep. And we're not givin' you a gun until we can completely trust you." Tilly wiped tears from her eyes.

"Thank you…Thank you." she let out while trying to catch her breath through silent sobs.

"Welcome aboard."


	3. Chapter 3

"_Welcome aboard._" Rick's words rang through Tilly's ears like church bells. She smiled, and Rick walked back to Glenn.

"Rick, we need to bury Beth. A nice service, funeral, whatever. I'm not going to dig a hole on the side of the road and stick her in it." Glenn raised his voice and put his hand on Rick's chest.

"I know." Rick rubbed his eyes "But we have no shelter, no food, no idea of where to go, and Carol is still in pain."

"I'm fine." the older woman piped up from the firetruck.

"Still. I say we go down the road just a bit more, and if we find something we'll tucker down and bury Beth. But I'm not leaving us exposed with nowhere to go." Rick lowered his voice a bit, but kept the urgent tone. Tilly cleared her throat.

"I can help with food. My pa went deer hunting evr'y year, so I can go out with Apollo and get us somethin' to eat. As for lodging...I used to work with this girl whose uncle had a house, nice big house, somewhere out here. If y'all had a map, I could pinpoint it for ya." Tilly finished her sentence and immediately slunk back, regretting speaking out of turn. Daryl looked up at her, adoration in his eyes. He stood and walked closer to her.

"You can hunt?" he questioned. A sly smile met her lips.

"But a'course. What about you Mr. Charming?" Daryl turned on his heel and went back to the firetruck. He pulled out his crossbow from inside, and returned to her.

"Let's go blondie." he said, his tone gruff but playful.

"Wait a minute. Here." Rick had pulled out a map from Glenn's backpack and handed it to Tilly. She looked around for a pen. When she didn't find one, she reached into her pocket, and pulled out a pen. She then marked on the map a place a few miles down the road and handed it back to Rick.

"You might have to clear his family out, but it was just him and his wife and son. So there shouldn't be too many, if any." Tilly said as she opened the truck door to let Apollo out. As soon as the door was open enough for him to get through, Apollo bounded out and over to Carl who stood near the driver-side door of the firetruck. The dog jumped up on the boy and insisted on licking his face. Tilly whistled and the dog, for once, returned to her.

"I guess we'll see you there then." Rick nodded to her and motioned for everyone to get back in a vehicle. Daryl looked at Tilly.

"Shall we get goin', Miss Queen-of-the-woods?" Daryl smirked. They headed off into the woods as the rest of the group drove off down the road towards hopeful sanctuary. After a while of walking, Apollo woofed softly and looked into the trees.

"Smell something boy?" the dog wagged his tail and started trotting off deeper into the woods. Daryl and Tilly looked at each other, and followed suit. Daryl cocked his crossbow, and Tilly drew her knife. Moments passed, and they came across a creek with a nice big buck drinking his fill. Daryl raised his crossbow ready to shoot when a walker came out from behind the girl; snarling and reaching for her flesh. She let out a small scream and jammed her knife into the walker's head. Daryl whipped around, and his finger hit the trigger on accident; sending the bolt into the ground. As he turned he spotted three walkers headed towards them.

"They're attracted to sound, try not to scream next time." He huffed under his voice as he reloaded his crossbow and fired at a walker; nailing it's head to a tree. Tilly walked forward, and went to drive her knife through the skull of an undead, but missed as it reached for her; instead digging her knife into it's back. The attack sent the walker hurdling forward towards Daryl who stepped back to try to avoid the clawing biter. As he stepped, his boot caught on a gnarled root in the ground. He fell backwards and the arrow that had misfired earlier went through his shoulder.

"Fuck!" he screamed. Tilly looked back after recovering from her failed attempt to kill a walker. She lunged forward and stomped on the head of the walker that was now crawling towards Daryl. In a moment of haste, Daryl grabbed the arrow from his chest, and ripped it out. He the loaded it and shot the remaining walker, missing Tilly's head by inches. As the walker fell to the forest floor, Tilly ran over to Daryl.

"Oh my God. Are you ok?"

"No I ain't fuckin' ok, are you fuckin' stupid?" he jibed as she tried to help him up. She got a stern look on her face and pursed her lips.

"You better be planning on letting me take a look at that." she urged.

"Yeah, yeah. I've had worse." he muttered as he tried to sit up. She pushed him back to the ground.

"You're not getting up until you promise to let me look at 'cha." she crossed her arms, and put her knee on his abdomen. She pressed harder as his silence continued.

"Yeah whatever. Fuckin' crazy bitch." he grumbled. She gave him an exasperated look, and took her pack off.

"You're gonna have to sit up. And um... take your shirt off." she mumbled the end of her sentence. Daryl sat up, and Tilly sat down behind him.

"Fine, but I ain't takin' my damn shirt off. Not until you buy me a drink first." am arm reached out from behind him holding the Dalmore bottle with a bit of scotch still left in it. He grabbed it and opened it. "I'm still not taking my shirt off." he said after taking a healthy gulp from the bottle. He jumped as gentle hands carefully took his vest off. Daryl shifted uncomfortably. Those same, pale, small hands reached around him and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and gingerly worked his shirt off his arms. A small gasp met Daryl's ears as Tilly saw the scars on his back. Daryl took another huge swig from the bottle as Tilly's hands fumbled to get the first aid kit out of her bag. She took out a small bottle of peroxide and a cloth, delicately placing it on the wound on his back. Daryl winced as the peroxide stung his cut. Daryl finished the bottle of scotch with two more mouthfuls, and threw the bottle into the forest. Tilly kept dabbing the wound, making sure it was as disinfected as it could be before sewing it up with supplies she pulled from her sack. Once finished, she sighed in relief before remembering the arrow went clean through; and there was a lesion in the front to be dealt with. Deliberately she inched around Daryl, not meeting his eyes, dragging her pack with her. Nimbly she started to disinfect the cut on his chest. This one was bigger and more jagged. Daryl watched her work as she stitched the gash on his front closed, and he could swear he was looking down at Beth Greene.

"All done." she said quietly. She looked up through her hair and their eyes met. Daryl eased forward slowly, his eyes slid down to her lips. Her soft, pink lips. She leaned into him, and their lips met. For a moment nothing in the world mattered. The pain, the musty stench of decay, and the rest of the world faded away into oblivion. Daryl reached his hands up, and gently caressed her head as he pulled out of their embrace. Their eyes met once more, and Tilly shivered. Daryl moved a lock of hair out of her face, and slowly, ever so slowly; kissed her again.

She wrapped her arms around him which caused him to back away and yelp in pain.

"Sorry, I'm sorry!" she squeaked. "I uh..." she blushed. "Wow..." she let out a embarrassed sigh and stood up sharply, turning away. Apollo loped over and licked Daryl's face, promptly sitting between his legs. "Uhm, we should probably try to find some sort of berries or something to bring back since I don't think you're up to more hunting." Daryl put his shirt and vest back on and gradually stood up.

"I'm fine." he grumbled, now back to his old self. Tilly nodded and grabbed her pack; slinging it over her shoulder. She looked at him and flashed him a smile before starting to walk away towards the creek. "Hey..." he called after her "Thanks." he said, his voice unusually sweet.

"No problem." she beamed. Daryl grabbed his crossbow, and followed the girl he might be falling for.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Wow! I'm amazing at how many people are actually enjoying this! I'm trying to force myself to write every night or every other night, and I have a plan for this whole fic. So hopefully it will be completely done soon!**


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